It seems impossible that 9/11 happened to us 18 years ago. EIGHTEEN years. To me, this is proof that time is in fact, not a healer, but a carrier. We are held and carried by time further and further away from the moment of anguish. I think this is as comforting as it is terrifying for a grieving person to comprehend. To move away from the day is to move away from “them”. And while distractions, acceptance and changed habits slowly move us into less-pain-filled-space, our grief will remain and our wound stays tender when touched.
Cemeteries are hallowed ground.
Memorials keep us present with what has passed.
Online tributes are permanent internet markers that acknowledge a life that took up space.
A moment of silence is a paused and muted time reserved with care for a grief too great to speak about.
Grief requires a space to exist in. A day set aside, an anniversary that we commemorate. Whether you feel the need to grieve 9/11 with action or space is yours to determine, but the griefs of your life deserve and need a space to exist.
The wonderful thing about placing our grief is that we don’t have to live in it all the time. Just as not every day is Christmas Day, not every day is (or should be) 9/11. We cannot live in the constancy of a grief-space and time helps us not to.
So, in light of today I invite you to make some sacred space for the tragedy of 9/11 and the deep places that it stirs in all of us each year. Spend a moment in remembrance, talk about it with someone (anyone – we are all connected by it), watch a documentary, learn about one of the victims, or simply light a candle.